


You Are With Me

by tile01



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Actors, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Actors, Canon Gay Relationship, Established Relationship, Gay Male Character, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-30 23:12:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15761661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tile01/pseuds/tile01
Summary: After the hit film "Captain America: The First Avenger" is declared a hit, Bucky Barnes is launched into the public eye as an up-and-coming movie star. After old videos resurface which stir up some controversy, Bucky's co-star/friend/lover Steve Rogers is there to help.





	You Are With Me

**Author's Note:**

> my first stucky fic! more to come!

Like any other major lifestyle shift, becoming a nationally-recognized actor was an abrupt and often unpredictable process. Filled with trials and tribulations, successes and failures, and revelations and consistencies, the road to fame was a road unlike any other. That being said, “fame” is a highly subjective term. Bucky Barnes was more famous than Pizza-Rat, per say, yet he was less famous than Beyonce or the likes of Beyonce. This was ultimately a happy medium in which Bucky flourished, given that he had grown up in Brooklyn and was well-accustomed to fast-paced living yet was not quite ready for the pressures of super-stardom. Again, “super-stardom” is a highly subjective term that, to be frank, made Bucky’s mouth go sour. To think of one's self as “holier than thou” was not a feasible practice, and the relatively young man found joy in the simplicity of life whilst appreciating the comfort that his profession provided. Again: a happy medium.

However, this balance of rationality was often put to the test. As one of the stars of the wildly successful film, “Captain America: The First Avenger,” Bucky was subjected to a number of interviews that should have been considered forms of cruel and unusual punishment. Although he survived the weeks of multiple interviews (interrogations) a day, the young man was battered by the end of it -to say the least. His co-star, Steve Rogers, on the other hand, approached each news or media outlet as though it were its own individual, its own entity deserving of attention and energy. Bucky was quick to assume that Steve’s charisma, humility, and cheerfulness were a facade, yet it was clear that, as the press-release marched on, Steve remained strong whereas Bucky grew increasingly cynical. Not only did Steve have the sunniest disposition around, but he grew up in the industry and had pride in his work. This optimism astounded Bucky, as most actors he’d had the misfortune of meeting were typically as beaten-down and pessimistic as he was. Steve was a breath of fresh air.

This extreme difference in persona led to a number of quarrels (playful and lust-ridden, but playful nonetheless) between the two men. And yes, lust-ridden. Not only had Steve been a friendly introduction to the industry, but he served as a confidant of sorts. Bucky found solace in his new friend, and vice-versa. Sadly, the two men hadn’t explored their friendship during the filming process on account of long hours and limited time in each other’s company. Once the cameras had stopped rolling, the editing was completed, and the movie was released, however, there was an incredible shift. As the stress of the project had dissolved, their relationship turned blissfully physical.

There was not one moment or indication where Steve and Bucky became "Steve and Bucky" (to think so would be naive and to identify it could prove catastrophic). Bucky was by no means ashamed of the two’s sexual partnership, but the level of fame he happily maintained had its disadvantages. To put it simply, publically coming out as bisexual was a risk. He was out in high school, and had his fair share of female and male flings in his early twenties, but as soon as he was thrust into the public eye, things changed. Things didn’t necessarily get worse, but when the videos were released, years of repression culminated into one panicked night. And although Bucky nor Steve could assign a specific time and place to their relationship’s origins, the night when the videos were posted was as much a celebration as it was a funeral. A funeral is not strictly the mourning of a body, but rather a mourning of a soul or an incarnation. And when Bucky barged into Steve’s apartment that dreadful night, he (unbeknownst to him) was grieving and celebrating simultaneously. Emotion is simply a complex concept. Regarding Bucky's reaction, the reaction of a man who had succumbed to the pressures of the profession, an emotional response meant he was in dire need of assistance. (He was actually in dire need a therapist -as we all are, however Steve would have to suffice.)

He had visited this apartment regularly for the last few months and almost daily the last few weeks, so he wasted no time letting himself in. The lights were off, the paintings on the wall across from the entrance were more abstract than usual, and the living room to his right was more blurred than usual. Blurred is a generous term, as the dwellings appeared as triplets or twins depending on the angle of the occupant’s head. So the room was not blurred, but rather severely obscured. Whether it was due to the small welling of tears that occupied his eyes since 53rd street, or the liquor he grabbed at the bodega on 62nd, something impaired his vision, in turn impairing his judgment. Then again, was it? Because as Steve, dressed in his usual boxers and hoodie rounded the corner, Bucky felt as sober as ever.

There was a silence that was inevitable on a night such as this. Steve knew what had happened, Bucky surely knew what had happened, and Bucky knew that Steve knew that he knew. Everyone and their mother knew, essentially.

“Was in the neighborhood.” Bucky broke the silence with a bold-faced lie. The statement was by no means spoken maliciously, as he and Steve were equally aware of the seriousness of the situation, and a comment meant in lightheartedness was greatly appreciated. But as synced as the men were regarding their appreciation for humor, Steve was not one to let a friend get away with undergoing serious emotional upheaval alone. And given that Bucky’s life revolved around emotional barricades, the pairing often found itself at a crossroads. Would Steve entertain Bucky’s sarcastic tone and averting eyes for another few minutes, or was tonight different? Based on body language alone, the man still in the doorframe figured that tonight was not the night where movies would be followed by food which would be followed by sex.

That being said, Bucky was in a position that formalities were too daunting even for him. And before Steve offered a rebuttal to Bucky’s opening remarks, Bucky crossed the room, held Steve’s face in his hands, and kissed him with heat and passion and sadness and desperation and anything else he could muster.

Even though Steve’s lips were familiar and inviting, Bucky sensed the tentativeness in his partner, the reluctance towards anything more. Maybe it was Bucky's current emotional state that deterred his partner. Maybe it was the booze on his breath. Steve was never the type of person to prioritize physical satisfaction over offering genuine help to others. And because Steve was the caring individual he was, Bucky grew increasingly anxious for when their lips parted. For now, sturdy hands were a commanding presence on his waist and his own hands were rifling through his lover’s blonde hair that has definitely grown since last week. For now, there was no need for explanations or feelings or admissions. Despite this blissfulness, Bucky’s thoughts were banging at the inside of his skull as his lips moved against Steve’s, and his heart was racing with something other than sex-fueled anticipation. It made him sick.

The feeling became overwhelming, and as fast as he’d pounced on Steve, he detached himself. Yet Bucky’s eyes remained closed. He and Steve’s breathing steadied, and without opening his eyes, Bucky couldn’t help but murmur: “I need you tonight.”

As lovely as this comment is in another context, Steve understood that it came not from a place of genuine lust, but from a place of fear. Nights upon nights of stories and rants and tales of the past told to one another were now being put to the test. This ill-defined relationship was one that both men cherished, as it made nights such as this tolerable. After a few daunting seconds, Bucky and Steve reached a silent mutual understanding. Bucky didn’t need sex, he needed to communicate. So after a quiet dialogue was exchanged through body language and breaths alone, Bucky felt safe enough to open his eyes and bury himself in Steve’s warm chest. The larger man huffed, slowly stating, “Let’s move you to the couch, I’ll get your stuff.”

Bucky complied, allowed Steve to place a kiss to his temple, and collapsed on the couch. The sofa was comfortable and inviting. Although Bucky often boasted about his humble studio apartment and preached the “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” mentality, he was appreciative of Steve’s willingness to purchase commodities such as decent furniture and a decent television. By decent furniture, Bucky, of course, meant the wonderful cushions he was quite literally melting into, and by a decent television, Bucky was referring to a plasma screen with great (ok, fantastic) quality. Maybe Bucky would eventually succumb to Hollywood-life and make some serious purchases, or maybe Bucky would just live as Steve lived: comfortable and unafraid of investment. For now, the young man reveled in the couch under his body, and was content with borrowing pajamas from Steve for possibly all of eternity. Speaking of eternity, it was a long couple of minutes before Bucky was graced with his friend’s presence again. Being the gentleman he was, Steve apologized for the incredibly minor delay, gave Bucky sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and allowed him to change in silence.  
His head hadn’t even gotten through the sweatshirt yet when Steve made the first move.

“It’s not as bad as you think it is.”

Steve was, of course, referring to the videos released earlier this morning: the videos which were filmed years ago in high school, and subsequently outed Bucky this morning when posted. It was truly a stupid few minutes of footage that wasn’t even posted with the intent to slander Bucky’s name. Or at least he’d like to think so. He’d like to think that the footage from a tenth-grade spin-the-bottle game included in a “throwback-thursday” post was not uploaded maliciously, but despite its initial purpose, the five-minute video illustrated a side of Bucky that wasn’t ready for the public. It was a stupid, stupid recording of Bucky and a male classmate in a "compromising situation," and it gave gossip-columns material for the next month or so. It would be exhausting. Utterly exhausting.

So Bucky inhaled, looked across the sofa cushion at Steve, and responded while attempting to sound as stable as possible. Avoiding any shakiness in his voice, Bucky said, “I know, I just-” Steve sensed Bucky’s unsuccessfully-masked trepidation and allowed him to lie on his chest. Lowering them down so that Bucky’s head was nestled in Steve’s neck and their legs were tangled together, Steve allowed Bucky to continue, insisting, “Look, it would happen eventually, I just wanted it to be on my own terms. The public’s a bitch and it’s not really fair and-”

“Shhh,” Steve ran his hands through Buck’s hair and kept his voice low as he spoke. He murmured softly, “It’s terrible, really. It should have been your decision when and where, I get that. It’s hard to look at the positives right now, but in the grand scheme of things, it’s better that it’s over with.” Bucky nodded. Steve rattled on. “Look, the media is terrible, the paparazzi’s terrible, it’s all terrible. I know you’re going to handle this well and I wish I could just be there with you.”

“You are with me.” Bucky’s voice had grown quiet and husky.

Steve obviously interpreted this differently than Bucky had intended, as he tensed up in deep contemplation at Bucky's claim. Bucky, however, didn’t have the option to further investigate this response. He instead was lulled to sleep by the steady rise and fall of Steve’s chest.

**Author's Note:**

> chapter 2 will be posted soon :) hope y'all enjoyed


End file.
